The Memories of a Life We've Yet to Live
by starrylaa
Summary: Having only just been made Head Boy and determined for Lily to change her opinion on him, James stares into the Mirror of Erised and faces his future. Left in his hands, can he change the outcome? And will he want to?
1. Chapter 1

**The Memories of a Life We've Yet to Live – Part One**

**Pairing:** Lily/James

**Chapter:** 1/5

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to JK. The first title from part one is from Cinematic Orchestra's 'To Build a Home' and the title from the second is Stars' 'Heart'.

**Summary**: For James, it had all passed too quickly: one moment he was trying to win Lily's heart, the next he had it, she became his wife and had his baby. But then just as quickly as he had won her over, a monster came knocking at his door, wanting to take it all away. Screaming and unwilling to accept his fate, he wishes that he could have prevented it all.

Meanwhile, in another world, a Seventh Year James stares into the Mirror of Erised and encounters something that will change everything, and force him to make the hardest decision he will ever have to make.

**A/N:** This started off as a one-shot then turned into a really long one-shot, so it has been divided into five parts, the first two which I have put up. I didn't originally write this fic to mark the 30th anniversary of their deaths, but then I realised that day was actually coming up, I decided to post this fic as my way of marking that day.

**Part I – **_**And now it's time to leave and turn to dust**_

In the end, Death hadn't greeted him like an old friend. Death had barged into his house unwanted, unexpected and all too prematurely. It stole his life in the most terrifying manner and had ripped him so cruelly from the world that he knew his soul must have screamed the entire way to the place it had been dragged to.

James Potter wanted nothing more than to live. He wanted nothing more than a life with his beloved wife, whose heart he had battled to win, and their cherished baby son. But on that Halloween, fate chose another route.

* * *

><p>James looked at his son and couldn't help but grin as little Harry squealed in delight at the coloured smoke rings James was making with his wand. His son sat in his lap and James jigged his legs up and down, which seemed to amuse Harry further. But then Harry was incredibly easy to entertain.<p>

Standing in the door way, his wife looked on at them, arms folded and a smile on her face as she took in the sight. When James noticed her, he temporarily stopped flicking his wand, mesmerised by her smile. Even after all this time, Lily could still render James utterly motionless and truthfully, he was still waiting for someone to tell him this was all a dream. Lily and Harry- his wife and _their _son- were part of his life and he still couldn't believe it. Any day he expected Lily to come to her senses and abandon him, and anyway, Sirius constantly found his pleasure in goading James about being a tied down, young father (something their younger selves would have been aghast at). But then James wasn't the one who constantly requested letters from Lily, nor was he the godfather absolutely smitten with his godson. Sirius wouldn't admit it, but Lily and Harry meant almost as much to him as they did to James.

What James wanted was for Lily to come and sit down beside him and complete that image he had in his head of the three of them sharing one rare, perfect moment together. But Lily had started saying something about it being late and far past Harry's bedtime, so reluctantly he put his wand in his robe pocket, scooped Harry up and handed him to his mother.

He watched as she took Harry and held him close, noting the way her head inclined towards their baby and the way her hair fell into Harry's face, making him grab strands gleefully, which in turn made Lily laugh. Her face was etched with tiredness, and the slight slumping of her shoulders hinted at a heavy burden, but Harry had this way of bringing the both of them joy when surely they felt like despairing.

_Motherhood agrees with her_, he thought as he leaned back into the sofa. It wasn't too long ago that procreating with the Giant Squid would have been more appealing to Lily than marrying James- and look how far things had come! His smile suddenly faltered and James' shoulders sagged a little. As much as he had everything he could possibly want right now, there was part of him that yearned for the days when Lily still hated him, if only because it meant a time without so much worry for their safety. His perfect life had come at a price and there wasn't a moment that went by that he forgot about that.

As if to highlight this, James heard the sound of the door flying open and he knew, just _knew _that it was _him_.

_No_, he thought. _Not today. Not this moment. No, no, no, no, no! Something must have gone wrong! Something must have happened to Peter! _

But he doesn't have a chance to contemplate what.

He stood up. (His wand fell out of his pocket, unnoticed by him.)

He found himself running to the hallway, to warn Lily. He reached for his wand. (It was on the sofa, far out of his reach.) But it was too late to go back for it.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go!_ Run_!" he screamed as fear overwhelmed him. "I'll hold him off!"

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. They'd been fearful for so long and now _he_ was here at this very moment. (They should have been more prepared_._)

Lily didn't say anything, but he heard the sound of her frantic footsteps as she rushed up the stairs. And he felt, rather than saw, her looking behind her shoulder at him with the upmost fear in her eyes.

There was no time to tell each other they loved one another or to say goodbye (and he knew it was goodbye, _knew_) because Voldemort was standing in _their _doorway, in _their _home, brandishing his wand in James' face.

James heart was pounding so loudly that he couldn't hear Lily's screams as she stood frozen on the top of the stairs and a hundred thoughts passed through his head in a second.

(Lily, why aren't you running? You need to run! I'll try to hold him off. You need to get you and Harry to safety. I'll do my best, _my best_.)

James glimpsed the red eyes behind the hood; he was terrified, but would never admit it to the monster in front of him.

(Fuck, why don't I have my wand? We don't stand a chance. LILY!)

James held out his hands, as though this action alone would provide protection enough.

He heard the sound of derisive laughter and still, he couldn't believe this was all happening.

(He must have killed Peter and we were fools to think hiding would be this easy.)

Voldemort's mouth moved. James couldn't make out the words, but he knew the spell.

(I've failed you Lily, haven't I? There's not enough time to escape. And I couldn't protect you. I was meant to protect you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I love you.)

The last thing James saw was a flash of green light and he felt himself flying to the ground.

Then Death took him by the hand, forcing him away from his home and away from Lily and Harry who were about to meet their own demise. The heart in the body that was no longer his own, broke, and his soul cried out in pain at everything that he was losing.

_I wish I'd kept them safe_! he screamed at Death, as it dragged him along. _I would have done anything to prevent this. _

But Death just looked on.

* * *

><p>A dying man is always granted his one last wish. If that man is already dead, would it make a difference?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**The Memories of a Life We've Yet to Live – Part Two**

**Pairing:** Lily/James

**Chapter:** 2/5

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to JK. The first title from part one is from Cinematic Orchestra's 'To Build a Home' and the title from the second is Stars' 'Heart'.

**Summary**: For James, it had all passed too quickly: one moment he was trying to win Lily's heart, the next he had it, she became his wife and had his baby. But then just as quickly as he had won her over, a monster came knocking at his door, wanting to take it all away. Screaming and unwilling to accept his fate, he wishes that he could have prevented it all.

Meanwhile, in another world, a Seventh Year James stares into the Mirror of Erised and encounters something that will change everything, and force him to make the hardest decision he will ever have to make.

* * *

><p><strong>Part II – Growing old so young<strong>

James Potter is rudely awakened in the middle of the night by Sirius Black jumping on his bed, calling out his name.

He lets out a groan and scrambles for his glasses. "Padfoot, what the fuck? It's-," he finds his watch. "Three in the morning."

"And you're _sleeping_?" Sirius accuses. "You're taking this Head Boy gig far too seriously."

As usual, James can't tell whether Sirius is being serious or not and fixes him with a glare.

"Anyway, remember how in second year we stumbled across that mirror? And then we couldn't find it again? Yeah well, I found it!"

James lets out another groan and drops his head back on his pillow. "Don't care," he mumbles.

A moment's silence and then-

_Whoosh!_

He feels his duvet flying in the air.

"Prongs, this may be the only chance we have to see this mirror again! _The only chance_. And since being Head Boy is slowly eating up all of your fun quota, don't you think you should have one last late-night adventure before you forget what fun is?"

"It's a mirror, Padfoot. A sodding magical mirror."

"Exactly, my dear friend."

* * *

><p>He does it because part of him feels guilty about 'losing his sense of fun' as Sirius would put it (or 'becoming responsible' as Remus would say.) Both he and Sirius hide under James's invisibility cloak that Sirius had borrowed earlier, and together they go in search of the mirror.<p>

It's in a room that looks like an abandoned classroom, but James doesn't remember ever seeing this it before, though his brain is still too sleepy to care.

Tentatively, Sirius slips out of the cloak and heads towards the mirror and looks up at the engraving on the top panel.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," he reads. "Still no idea what the fuck that means. Bet it's Welsh." He turns to look at James. "I didn't look into it. Thought I'd wait for you to come. Revel in our glory together and all that."

The last time the two of them had found this mirror, they had both seen the same thing: the both of them popular and successful Quidditch/pranksters/Exploding Snap players/entrepreneurs/marauders of the castle. They'd seen the same when standing together or apart, and had been convinced that the mirror was some kind of window to an alternate universe. He and Sirius had been an impressed; the idea of a world where the both of them had attained the dream of every twelve-year-old wizard was tantalising and they'd sought the mirror soon after, in hope that they could find a way to communicate with their otherworldly selves and ask them the secrets of their success.

In the years to come, as they slowly achieved each of the things they'd seen their other selves possess, they would talk about the mirror, contemplating its true nature. Both had grown sceptical that the mirror showed them an alternate world, and there had been rumours of a mirror that showed people's true hearts' desire, which was more disappointing than their original idea, but more realistic. They'd sought it many times in order to prove or disprove either theory, but had never been able to find it again.

And now they stood before it, wondering what their reflection would show.

"Go on then," James urges. "What can you see?"

"Ten galleons it shows me as a rock star."

James snorts. As if that was ever going to happen.

Sirius exhales and stares into the mirror. As his gaze becomes more focused, the smile on his face begins to fade. After a few moments, Sirius turns away and James is almost afraid to ask.

"Well?" he says, anyway.

Sirius doesn't look at him. "Definitely not a rock star," he murmurs, and James instantly knows that whatever Sirius has seen, it has to do with Sirius' family. He seldom talks about it, but James knows his friend well enough to note the longing expressions he gets on his face every time he sees James with his family. Sirius has never had a loving family before, but it doesn't mean he doesn't yearn for one.

"I'm just going to-," he motions to the window. "I'll wait for you, yeah?"

Silently, James watches Sirius retreat to the window and stare blankly out of it. He wonders whether he should say anything, but knows Sirius hates anything that might be misconstrued as pity.

Hesitantly, he wonders whether he should look into the mirror. He never truly cared about finding it to see what it might hold; rather it was the challenge of finding it again in the first place that had intrigued him. If the mirror did indeed show one's true desires, then James has no idea what it will reveal. He has no raw, burgeoning desires, no great heartaches, no grand career ambitions and he certainly has no real need to find out what he truly wants. Part of him suspects that his greatest desire would be to see a certain red-headed girl naked, and though the sight would instantly please him, the idea that his true desire is not only shallow, but nothing remotely ambitious would disappoint him. Unless, of course, the mirror is actually a reflection of an alternate universe and Lily Evans is his girlfriend.

With a sudden compulsion to prove that his life is a bit more substantial than that, he uncloaks himself and walks towards the mirror and looks up at the inscription and reads the first word.

"Erised." _Desire. _

James has many desires, most of them revolving around Lily, but there are other ones too: the desire to be a worthy Head Boy, the desire to help Remus through all of his tough times, his desire to be a good enough family for Sirius and his desire to not have to live in a world where those of Muggle-birth are treated as scum. But these desires are attainable, not impossible ones that can only be envisaged in a mirror.

Suddenly a little nervous, he stares into the mirror. Instantly the mirror changes, but not in the way he remembers. When he had previously looked into the mirror, he had changed but the room he was standing in had remained the same. This time, the background grows cloudy.

For a moment, he struggles to make sense of the image. The background is different but he remains the same. Was that supposed to be a desire? But on closer inspection, he sees that his reflection is different: gaunt, more stressed-looking, agitated, slightly older...and was his reflection trying to get his attention?

The time before, his and Sirius' reflection had waved at them both merrily. Now, his reflection is waving his arms, trying to get him to pay attention. And he is also mouthing James' name.

James is instantly unnerved; what he is seeing isn't some glimpse of his heart's greatest desire. No, this is more than that. This is eerie and unsettling.

He's about to call out for Sirius when the pleading look on his reflection's face grows desperate. Curious and a little bit concerned, James finds himself pressed up against the mirror, his nose almost touching it and his hands pressed against the glass, wondering who exactly he is looking at and why he's so distressed.

The James in the mirror swallows, looking a little calmer now that he has James' full attention, but still very much agitated. Slowly and deliberately, the man in the mirror places his hands against each of James' and aligns his face opposite his and it's odd: James almost feels his reflection's touch. He peers at himself, though his glasses make it awkward, and he sees his mirror-self studying him just as intently as he's looking at him. This James is definitely a couple of years older than him, though with the same glasses and the same messed up hair. But there is a different air about this man: he seems less carefree, a little wiser, a lot more pained and very much tortured.

_Is this who I become? _ he asks himself, and wonders what could possibly happen to him –if this really _is _him- to cause such anguish.

Their eyes lock – and then the strangest thing starts to happen: the James in the mirror starts talking to him.

* * *

><p>James rapidly blinks a few times, trying to compose himself whilst processing what his mirror-self had said.<p>

He turns to look at Sirius, who is still brooding out the window and seems to have heard none of what James' reflection had said.

"Oi, Padfoot, you ready?" James manages to ask, though it's hard; he feels uneasy and incredibly nauseous.

Sirius turns around to look at him.

"Yeah, I guess. What did you see then? You as an international Quidditch star with Lily draped over your arm?"

James laughs uneasily. "Something like that."

Donning the cloak again, the two of them head back.

With one final glance, James turns to look at the mirror. The last time he and Sirius had looked into the mirror, the image of what they had seen disappeared when they weren't directly in front of the mirror. Although James is by now a few feet away, he sees his mirror form staring right at him (though James is wearing his cloak), his hands still pressed against the glass and tears streaming down his face.

* * *

><p><em>James, you have to listen to me. I know that none of this is going to make sense, but I have something really important to tell you. I am you. Or I will be you. Something terrible will happen to you and those you love. I've come back... I need... I have to make sure it doesn't happen again. I need to... I need to explain what happens, but it's too complicated for words. I will show you somehow, I will show you what is to come and James, you must pay close attention to what I show you. In time, you will have to make a decision. It will be the most difficult decision you will ever have to make, but it might be the only one that saves them.<em>

* * *

><p>James doesn't remember walking back to the Common Room, or Sirius heading off to his dormitory whilst he headed to the Head Boy room down the corridor. He doesn't remember falling back into bed or taking off his glasses. He only remembers feeling confused and unsettled, as though nothing is ever going to be okay for him again.<p>

He falls asleep the instant his head touches his pillows and is besieged with flashes of memories that aren't his own. Recognisable vivid green eyes in a montage of emotions: angry, irritated, surprised, accepting, interested, loving and passionate; a flash of red hair and a glimpse of a familiar face in their shared study, in the Common Room, down a corridor; arguing furiously and then working in companionable silence; her opinion changing and her guard being let down; a date on a snowy day, full of celebration, glee and her full acquiescence; stolen kisses in the mornings, in an empty classroom and just because; legs entwined and skin blazing amid searing kisses and loving touches; dancing together at the leavers' ball, giddy, intoxicated, in love; the next and final day of school and the end of an era, but she is right there by his side as they give their parting speeches; a different start, a new life, together, forever; a wedding, the brightest day against the gloom of the future; a madman terrorising the wizarding world with his agenda; the rise of his supporters and the banding together of those who oppose him; fighting him once, twice, three times and almost coming close to dying; the birth of their baby with her eyes and his hair; the two of them so happy, but so, so scared of what the future will bring; a damning prophecy that makes it all the worse; the three of them forced into hiding - tough times, fear and frustration; snatched moments of happiness and a little boy that makes things all the easier to bear; a day like any other that ends it all; that madman in their home, wards broken, their vulnerability exposed; her screams, her fear, their baby; his attempts to protect them, to ward that monster off; his wand left behind, his futility, his despair, his demise and his everlasting failure.

James wakes up in a cold sweat. _What the hell was that?_

Echoes of the dream are left with him and he stands up, paces, stares out the window before coming back to his bed and sitting at the end of it, it an attempt to shake it off.

He finds it hard to believe that his dream was anything but an extension of his imagination. But he's dreamt of Lily before: lust-filled, teenage-boy dreams and ones where she finally, finally returns his affections; he's never had a dream where they have a future together or a baby boy or where he dies trying to save her.

James shakes his head in disbelief. The idea of them sharing a future is preposterous. Though he wishes for it, there could never possibly be a scenario in which the two of them are together. It would be impossible. And for the two of them to be married and have a child together? Positively insane!

His mind is suddenly plagued with flashes of green and the face of a man people call Voldemort. Voldemort's putrid hate of Muggles and the gathering of followers is something that greatly concerns and worries James. If he's truthful, it scares him too. But he has no reason to dream of him. Hogwarts currently provides a safe haven from that monster.

He thinks of what the James in the mirror had said: _Something terrible will happen to you and those you love._

Is that what he had meant? That he would die at the hands of this man? And that Lily and their... their 'child' would die too? It makes him cold just thinking about it.

There is no way that the James he had seen had been real. That James had described himself as from the future, but it isn't possible. People just didn't travel from the future and find themselves in a mirror, talking to their younger self and warning them of what is to come.

No, there has to be some other explanation – a cruel joke, a magical trick or creature he's never heard of messing with his mind.

Later on tonight, he'll go and find the mirror and prove himself right.

* * *

><p>A little out of breath, James rushes into the Head study.<p>

"You're late," Lily declares without looking up from her work.

In the few meetings with Lily that he has attended, James usually replies to Lily's remarks about his punctuality with some sort of witty retort – despite promises to himself to stop – but instead mumbles a hasty apology. Surprised about a missed attempt to goad her, Lily stops writing and looks up.

"Are you feeling okay, Potter?" she casually enquires.

"Yeah, never better," he lies, going to sit at the desk facing opposite hers. He doesn't tell her the reason he'd been late is because he'd been freaking out about a dream that featured her prominently; it wouldn't exactly endear her to him.

Still confused by his reticence, Lily eyes him carefully. "Shall I go through my list of things we need to sort out?"

James nods and Lily begins reeling off her list. He stops listening almost immediately, becoming far too entranced by her to concentrate on a word she's saying.

It's a well known fact that amongst Hogwarts' students (and possibly staff) that James fancies Lily. He'd made this entirely obvious since fourth year. No one understands completely why – why just one girl? And why her so whole-heartedly? No one would dispute that Lily isn't attractive: she's beautiful, she's kind-hearted (well, not to him) and popular, plus she is clever too. But to him, it's a little more than that: it's the dedicated way she applies herself to absolutely everything; the way she takes her time to know everyone she meets; her smile (seldom directed at him) and her laugh (never at his jokes). It's the colour of her hair and the way it catches the light and the green of her eyes that renders him breathless with their intensity; it's the way she doesn't make it easy for him and the fact that though he can figure out a lot of people, Lily isn't one of them and James is riveted by her. Unfortunately for James, Lily isn't too keen on him.

Though their increased time together means she is starting to thaw just a little, Sirius says it's still a lost cause and can't fathom why James is so invested in her. It's hard to explain to a seventeen-year-old boy about being so drawn to a girl and feeling as though she's uncontrollably the centre of his world when James himself doesn't quite understand it.

"Potter, have you been listening to a word I've said?" Lily suddenly demands.

"Yes," he instantly replies. "We need to sort out patrol rotas for the next week, approve or reject proposals of new student clubs and meet with newly-elected leaders of existing clubs. We need to organise a meeting with Dumbledore at some point later this week, hold a meeting with our prefects and see how they're progressing and whether they've had any problems with other students. And last but not least, we need to support and reassure the younger years that have been saying they feel bullied by older students, particularly Slytherins." Out of habit, he fixes her with a lazy, smug smirk even though his heart isn't really in it.

The annoyance is evident on Lily's face. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

She gestures at him. "Act as though you're deliberately trying to vex me. The whole barely-paying-attention to me thing, the constant goading and smirks – I had hoped that now that you're Head Boy that kind of behaviour would have ceased, but you're just the same!" Her eyes are flashing with anger now, and her fingers flex as though she's about to vent out everything she's been holding back about him. "Do you even realise that you can be mean, that sometimes what you say is hurtful?"

James looks at her agape. _She thinks I'm_ mean?

Lily looks at her watch and stands up. "I'm leaving; I have somewhere to be," she announces. "We'll continue our meeting later."

"Hey Evans, wait-," he begins. But she's out of the door in an instant and James is left in stunned silence.

* * *

><p>Mirror incident cast firmly aside in his mind, James focuses on Lily's opinion of him as he sits through Transfiguration.<p>

_Am I really mean to her?_ he wonders, and begins to think about his previous interactions with her. Before fourth year, they'd barely exchanged more than a few words. He'd noticed her existence before then, but fourth year had seen a transformation within himself that made him fully aware of Lily's existence. It had taken him a while to muster the courage to ask her out and when he finally did, she shot him down and he'd been heartbroken. Though in hindsight, he shouldn't have put her on the spot and asked her out in front of his friends. The next week, he tried again, alone this time but using passing students as a security blanket. Her irritation had been palpable and she rejected him again. He tried a few more times with the same result, until her rejections had drained all his courage. But to save face, he continued asking her out, though this time with the certainty that he'd be rejected and turned it into something of a joking matter. He'd ask her out every opportunity he got, in front of his friends, in front of hers, in the most inopportune moments and in the most creative ways, relishing the looks of disgust on her face. He'd feed off the laughs he got from Sirius and various other classmates and loved using Lily to pander to an audience. He never stopped to consider the humiliation he must have put Lily through. He denied to himself that the real reason he goaded Lily like this was because at some point, he'd put a wall around his heart to protect it from her rejections and him continually goading her was proof to himself that her dislike of him meant nothing. He gave her lascivious looks and sleazy comments because they provoked a reaction from her, and he lived off her passionate reactions. They had become habitual and instinctive, and although he'd told himself to rein them in when he became Head Boy, they were a hard habit to break.

His eyes seek Lily out. She's sitting at the front of the class, her head's tilted to the side and her long ponytail swings gently every time she moves. Even when he can't see her face she's captivating.

Scenes from his dream invade him again. He pictures Lily's face where she's smiling at _him _and the two of them are having a whale of a time together. The both of them acting like that with each other is so far removed from the two that sit in Transfiguration lesson, and James starts to wonder what he wants from Lily. He likes her, almost imagines that he's in love with her and becomes enraptured by her simplest movements, and yet he's unable to believe that those feelings can be requited. So he uses snarky remarks and witty retorts as armour. He isn't above public humiliation and asking her out any time of the day (including in front of 'friends' that she feels the need to defend), because in his immaturity, he's unable to see that he's hurting the one person he isn't supposed to. Or maybe he does see, but part of her wants her to endure some of the hurt he feels she puts him through. Deep down, he knows his fixation on Lily is unhealthy and damaging, not just for him but to her. James also yearns to be a worthy Head Boy, and to be that, surely he had to redefine his relationship with the Head Girl?

In a dream, or in a mirror or alternate reality, James Potter was able to earn Lily's respect and affections and got everything he wanted. If James works on it, if he tries his best and re-evaluates his attitude, attaining Lily's affections might be a possibility.

He continues to think about this fantasy, desperately trying not to recall what happened at the end of the dream.

* * *

><p>In the middle of the night he puts on his cloak. James had sat on the end of his bed for what seemed like hours, debating or not whether to go in search of the mirror, but now he's made his decision, needing to put an end to all this uncertainty.<p>

He finds the mirror easily enough. It's in the same place it was the night before.

James goes to stand in front of the mirror and waits for his other self to appear. For a few moments he sees nothing but his own, normal reflection, and just as he begins to think that the James in the mirror had been nothing more than his imagination, the mirror begins to cloud.

His mirror self appears, looking tired but not surprised to see him.

"James," he whispers, and it's still strange to hear his voice uttered from a mouth that's not his own.

James doesn't bother with small talk. "I need to know exactly who you are," he demands. "I need you to tell me exactly what this whole _thing_ is about and I need you to tell me why it's happening. And then I need you to tell me that none of this is true, that this is all some ridiculous joke."

The man in the mirror deliberates, and James can see him weighing up exactly how much he should divulge.

"The explanation isn't going to be easy," his other self warns.

James shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

He watches as his other self sighs. The James in the mirror steps as close to the glass as possible and fully locks his brown eyes on James' identical ones.

"I wasn't lying what I said to you the other day. I truly wish I wasn't. The person you see is indeed yourself, but I am who you will be in a very short number of years."

James shakes his head in disbelief. "That's not possible. You can't travel back in time unless you have a time turner, which," James looks at his counterpart's neck, "you don't."

Grimness enters the mirror man's eyes. "Indeed," he notes. "You are right. And for one to use a time turner, they must be alive. I regret to inform you, that is not the case with me."

James freezes, his breathing halts and his hands begin to shake uncontrollably. This man had hinted at his – _their? _– demise and James had even dreamt about it. But to have it said out aloud is ten thousand times worse. He's never been one to consider his own mortality, but he's always imagined that he'd die old.

"I don't know how I got here. I don't know how I came to be standing in front of you behind this mirror. All I know is that I...I...," his other self can't seem to say 'died'. "All I know is that things came to an end," he says, trying again. "And just as things were ending, I wished desperately that I could have stopped this from happening. I wanted to go back and change things, yearned for it so much and desired it so greatly, and the next thing I knew I was here, waiting for you. Truth be told, I wanted to go back to just before we were attacked, but here I am instead. I can't rewind what has happened to me, but I can stop the very same thing from happening to you."

There's something in his counterpart's eyes, something great and all-consuming. _It's urgency_, he realises, a pleading to change things. But James doesn't quite understand what he's being asked to do; his seventeen year-old self can't quite grasp the enormity of it all.

"I still don't understand!" he cries.

His older self nods in understanding. "You know who He Who Shall Not Be Named is, don't you?"

James looks at him as though he's mad. "Of course, every wizard knows who he is."

"Then you know how big a threat he is."

James nods.

"In a couple of years' time, he will be an even greater threat, more so that you can possibly imagine. He will go after your family. He will chase after your friends. He will hound you all because you won't submit to his ideals. And in the end, he will kill you."

"No!" His body quakes with denial. Voldemort is nothing to do with James. He is a madman, but a madman that is the Ministry's problem to solve. He's a madman they can handle – it's just taking time. When he finishes school in under a year, nobody will even remember who Voldemort is. "I don't believe that! He can't!"

There's pity in the older man's eyes. "I didn't believe it either."

James begins pacing frantically. "Why me?" he demands. "Why me specifically? What's so special about me, about my-," he can't quite say family, "that he goes after us?"

His mirror self ponders this. "He Who Shall Not Be Named is a powerful man who seeks absolute power. His quest for that power makes him paranoid. In a way we both aren't special to him - he mercilessly kills anyone who seeks to stop him, and believe me, I tried and so will you. But a prophecy was told that stated someone would be able to completely overthrow him. He found out who that person would be." The James in the mirror stops talking and James sees his mirror self suddenly overcome with emotion. So far his other self had been able to maintain composure whilst explaining everything to him, but suddenly all that is lost. The man's gaze is averted, his breathing is heavy and his fists are clenched. When he looks up again, James sees his eyes are full of tears.

"That person is my – _our – _son. I don't need to tell you who the mother is, nor her fate."

_Because I already know, _he thinks. Suddenly he feels sick, like his heart is being quenched and shredded. To have his worst fears confirmed is absolutely horrifying and he finds his knees giving way. In his head, he can still hear her screaming and when he looks into the eyes of his older self, he can tell that James is hearing the same thing too, that he's never stopped hearing it since the moment it happened. His own eyes fill with tears just imagining her demise. He may be young, but he doesn't need to be a grown man to be utterly stricken at the prospect of someone he likes, possibly _loves_, dying. His own death he can handle, but not _her_ death, not the death of the son he doesn't even know yet.

For a few minutes, neither James speak, instead they share their grief.

"Weren't we protected from him?" he finally asks.

"Yes," the older James says. "We were in a safe house and guarded by the Fidelius Charm. Peter was our Secret Keeper, but something went terribly wrong that night." The look on his face suggests to James that what this is confuses his older self immensely. "Somehow, He Who Shall Not Be Named found out about Peter. I don't know if he tortured the information out of him or whether we were betrayed, but on that unsuspecting night we met our downfall."

James pictures his friend in his head. Peter, with his lack of confidence and shyness, but still a great friend. He can't bear to think about what happened to him that night.

Another silence falls and James tries to collect his thoughts. He thinks about Lily and about the fact they have a child together and he shakes his head in denial. "Lily can't stand me," he points out. "The likelihood of us having a child together is pretty low and thus the prophecy is null and void."

For the first time, he watches as his older self smiles. The smile doesn't quite reach the eyes, but it's a smile nonetheless. "No, she can't stand you," he concedes. "But she will, given time. Seventh Year is a turning point for the both of you. Your role as Head Boy and Girl will draw the two of you together."

"Really?" his voice is barely a whisper, the hope and the wistfulness undisguised.

The James in the mirror nods and his younger self watches as a myriad of emotions cross his face: longing, regret and lastly grief. James can only imagine how painful it is to love someone so fully and then expire with the knowledge that you couldn't save them. But the man in the mirror, he knows too well what it's like.

"You know what I'm going to tell you next, don't you?"

From his kneeling position, James nods. It's there, hanging in the air. Of course he knows.

"In my dying moment, I wanted to change my destiny, her destiny, _his _destiny. The next thing I knew, I was here."

"You want me to change things," he states.

His other self smiles sadly.

"But how?" James demands.

"It's for you to find out; I can't be the one to make that decision for you. James, I don't know how long I will be here for you, but I don't think it will be forever. I want to be able to help you, I really do. I just don't know how much longer I'll be able to."

James remains confused and at that moment, he feels something press down on his shoulders: a heavy burden and a responsibility he's not ready to accept, and he's glad he's sitting down because he feels legless. What is he being asked to do? Tell Dumbledore? Warn Peter?

His gaze meets his mirror self. Even now, there's still some doubt that remains and he's sure that at any moment that he'll wake up from this nightmare, because there's no way this can be happening.

The look on the older James' face suggests he knows exactly what he's thinking.

"You know what the worst thing is about what happened to us, James?"

He shakes his head.

"That it was all for nothing. The fighting and the hiding. Living our lives on pause and in constant fear. In the end, _he_ still got us; he still won."

James stares in despair at the man in front of him, the man he will become. He notes his frustration, his never-ending grief and his underlying anger. He looks at himself and he wonders when he became such a defeatist.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Memories of a Life We've Yet to Live – Part Three**

**Pairing**: Lily/James  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: 3/5  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Everything belongs to JK. Subtitle and cut-text from Florence&the Machine's 'Never Let Me Go'.  
><strong>Summary:<strong>For James, it had all passed too quickly: one moment he was trying to win Lily's heart, the next he had it, she became his wife and had his baby. But then just as quickly as he had won her over, a monster came knocking at his door, wanting to take it all away. Screaming and unwilling to accept his fate, he wishes that he could have prevented it all.

Meanwhile, in another world, a Seventh Year James stares into the Mirror of Erised and encounters something that will change everything, and force him to make the hardest decision he will ever have to make.  
><strong>AN**: Many thanks to _autumncolours for the beta.

* * *

><p><strong>Part III- Reflections still look the same<strong>

First there is love and then there is panic.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! _Run_!"

He wants her to be safe; he _needs_her to be safe. She rushes off with Harry. After that, everything is chaos.

Her name is a chant in his head. , and there are a million other frantic thoughts that cloud his mind.

Before him are dangerous red eyes and the face of a thief coming to steal what isn't his. There's a wand pointed at him when his own hands are empty. There's Lily hovering on the staircase when she should be long gone and the sound of her calling his name over and over again.

"Potter!"

He barely hears her over the sound of his pounding heart.

"POTTER!"

He feels someone shaking him. Is it her? How?

He finds his eyes are closed and when he opens them, he's staring at bright, green eyes. Hers.

"Lily?" he breathes.

Her eyes widen at being called by her first name and the face that had been hovering above him moves away.

He suddenly remembers where he is: in the Gryffindor Common Room, having fallen asleep on the sofa. Immediately, James sits upright and stares agape at Lily.

"Potter," she greets. "You fell asleep and you looked uncomfortable. It's late and I didn't want you to wake up with a crick in your neck." Her admission makes her cheeks colour slightly and for a moment, she can't quite look him in the eye. The two of them have an unspoken rule to call each other by their surnames; in a moment of uncertainty, he'd gone ahead and broken that.

His face can't quite hide the gratitude over Lily's concern for him and he can sense that Lily finds his smile hard to ignore.

It has been a few weeks since she had called him mean and James had talked to his other self in the mirror. Lily and James have formed a tentative alliance: not quite friends yet, but on the way there; their Head duties forcing them to spend a lot of time together and thus form a bond. Lily's increasing tolerance of James probably has something to do with the fact that James had curbed his obnoxious behaviour. This in part is slightly due to Lily's words having an effect on him, but it is also to do with what the older James had said to him. If looking into the mirror and finding an older version of himself had made James reticent, then his second encounter has rendered him greatly subdued and introverted. His mind is in a constant state of confusion and he flits from denial to helplessness and then to anger, all in a day. His behaviour is something of consternation to his friends, but his situation is so out of his control that even he can't placate their worries.

Even Lily has started to grow worried about him.

"You are okay, aren't you, Potter? Falling asleep on the sofa, walking around like a zombie – I'm beginning to think there's something wrong with you."

James sits upright, does his best to quash the disturbing residues of his dream and raises an eyebrow. "Is that concern I hear in your voice, Evans?"

Lily doesn't deny it, like he thinks she would have done. She shrugs noncommittally. "Maybe," she replies. "You're Head Boy and as Head Girl, it's my responsibility to make sure you're compos mentis." She says in a matter-of-fact and clinical manner, but he's beginning to know her well enough to realise that she's joking. Partly.

"I'm perfectly sane," he reassures her.

"Good. For a moment there I thought I'd have to trade you in with someone else."

He can't help it, he grins. "I thought that's what you've always wanted. Don't deny it; you would rather trade me in for Frank Longbottom."

"Longbottom, eh? I was thinking more Black." She smirks at him. "You're mildly tolerable, most of the time."

"'Mildly tolerable'? Thanks Evans, you always do know the right words."

Lily's face grows serious. "I'm serious though, Potter. If there was anything that was troubling you, you know that you can come to me, don't you?"

No, he hadn't been certain, not until that moment anyway. He nods at her though, and she gives him a quick smile before walking away.

When she's gone, he exhales deeply. Things between the two of them are changing. They are slowly becoming friends, there's gentle bantering and she is growing concerned for him. She is starting to care. Not so long ago, he would have been ecstatic about this. But it makes everything – the confusion, the uncertainty and his burden – all the much harder to bear.

* * *

><p>The next night, James refuses to go to sleep, knowing full well what it will bring. It will be that horrible night played out in painstaking detail yet again. He will see the horror etched on her face and hear her screaming his name in fright. And when he wakes up in the morning, he will spend half his time trying to dissociate that Lily with the Lily he knows, and the other half convincing himself that the dream would never become reality.<p>

As he trudges down from his dorm room to the Common Room, he's surprised to see Remus studying in front of the fire, even though Remus is a habitual night studier and James knows this. With everything that has been on his mind lately, peripheral knowledge has been evading him.

"Prongs," Remus says as he sees James heading towards him.

"Alright, Moony?" James greets, sitting down on the armchair by Remus.

"I'm studying Transfiguration at two am in the morning; I'm definitely not alright." Remus lets out a yawn and then looks at James with curiosity. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

James shrugs. "Couldn't sleep." Rather, he wouldn't sleep, but does not divulge that.

Remus looks at James thoughtfully and a frown forms on his face, but true to his nature, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he returns to his work and James is lost in his thoughts about a man in a mirror and a face that alternates between being a girl's and a woman's.

"Moony?" James suddenly pipes up.

Remus lifts his head up. "Yes?"

"Do you think... do you think it's possible to travel back in time?"

"Well, people can travel back with Time-Turners, though they're not the easiest to get hold of. Why, thinking of taking a trip back in history?"

"No. I mean other ways. Do you think-," James stops. Somehow he doesn't think saying 'travelling back in time when you're dead' is a sane question. Remus is pretty accepting and open-minded, but this one might be a bit strange even for him.

"Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. It's just something I was wondering."

"Are you sure?" Remus' gaze on him intensifies.

"Yeah."

Remus gives him one more quizzical look before returning to his book.

"Wait. Moony?"

Remus looks up again, his gaze patient, though he must be at the end of his tether.

James hesitates. He wants to tell his friend the whole truth, but it's crazy to his own ears. If he told Remus, surely he'd cart him off to St. Mungo's, friend or not?

James decides on the partial truth, keen to have his friend's insight. "I keep having this same dream. Well, nightmare actually. It's been bothering me."

This is the first time James has alluded to what's been on his mind, and Remus looks on with interest.

"I keep dreaming that Lily and I are married."

Remus gives a little laugh. "And that's a nightmare?"

"No!" James frowns, because the next part is harder to explain. "I dream that we have a son and that He Who Shall Not Be Named comes after us. He kills me. And though I don't see it happening, he kills Lily and our...baby."

Remus' eyes are wide now. "Oh," he simply says and then deliberates. James watches on, eager for Remus' opinion. His friend has always been perceptive and insightful, and what he wants Remus to say is that James has nothing to worry about: the dreams don't contain a grain of truth, Lily would never marry him and the Dark Lord won't come after them.

"Prongs, are you worried these dreams might be prophetic?"

"I'm not sure I believe in prophetic dreams," he mumbles. Remus doesn't say anything to that, Divination being a subject he takes.

"Maybe these dreams are based on underlying anxieties. Even so, I don't think these dreams have any basis in reality. Even if you and Lily married (which you know, might happen, but as it currently stands...), there's no reason for He Who Shall Not Be Named to come after you. He's dangerous and threatening, but he's surmountable and, sure, people are worried about him, but I'm certain that's just people overreacting. The Ministry will sort him out."

It's exactly what James wants to hear, though there's a nagging inside his head that tells him that He Who Shall Not Be Named has every reason to come after James, that people are vastly underestimating what he's capable of.

"Prongs, is this what has been bothering you?" his friend inquires.

He gives an offhand shrug. "Yeah, I suppose."

"You can always get a draught to stave off dreams," Remus suggests. "And if you're really worried about your dreams' implications, then maybe talk to Dumbledore."

James hadn't thought to get a dreamless draught, but the idea is appealing. He has however, considered seeing Dumbledore, but James' problem seems far too absurd to bother the headmaster with at this time. If things get worse, then perhaps he'll visit him then.

"Yeah, I should. Thanks Moony."

Remus smiles at him, but continues to look at him as though waiting for James to divulge the secret he's so obviously hiding. James wishes that it was that easy, that he could put into words the things he has seen and learnt, and that his friend would understand, would gather Sirius and Peter and would help James battle this head on. But it's hard to fight something that isn't tangible and harder still to fight something James still isn't sure is real.

* * *

><p>The next morning, he trudges rather tiredly down to breakfast. Remus, Sirius and Peter are already there, having risen before him. For a moment, he hovers in the entrance, watching them with envy. Sirius is nicking Remus' toast, Remus is sighing in exasperation and Peter is busy reading the paper and chomping away at his porridge, oblivious to Sirius' antics. Their worlds haven't changed, but James' has; his view on the world has been irrevocably altered and his friends don't even know it. He's different from them now and he hates that.<p>

He can't look at Peter without wondering what happened to him. Did Voldemort get him? Did he torture him to death? Or was he the betrayer, as his older self wondered? But why would Peter betray James, what reason could he have? This idea confuses him, and he reasons that it must be the former. If it's true, then James must do everything in his power to protect his friends.

He often wonders about Remus and Sirius. Where were they in all this? Had Voldemort caught them too? Did they suffer the end James did? Or were they alive but powerless to help? The idea of Remus and Sirius having to deal with his and Peter's deaths pains him, but at least the two of them would have been able to comfort each other, and could have fought even harder to bring Voldemort to justice.

James takes a deep breath. Those events are from another world that isn't his and that he still hopes doesn't happen.

He goes to sit down at the table. Sirius greets him jovially; Peter waves without looking up from his paper and Remus smiles at him in greeting, with a knowing look in his eye to suggest he's aware that James has just spent the last five minutes hovering in the door entrance.

* * *

><p>Every so often, his hand goes to his robe pocket and touches the dreamless draught there. It reassures him of a peaceful night's sleep to come, and he really needs that right now.<p>

He's tired, but does his patrol with Lily without complaint. When they first started doing their patrols together, James would be the one to do the talking, though what he had to say used to vex Lily, both intentionally and not. But then his world changed and his priorities had shifted and being with Lily elicited tumultuous feelings: on the one hand, he revels in her presence and exults in the familiar, intense feelings that being around her brings; on the other hand, every time he sees her, all he can think about is what happened to them in his dreams.

He lets Lily do the talking now, because trying to impress her by regaling her with pointless gibberish isn't his priority anymore - keeping her alive in this reality is. Even so, he feels a hundred miles from that boy who used immature methods to get Lily's attention. He prefers to listen to her and learn everything there is to her – something he never thought to do before. Knowing what could happen to her – to _them_– it seems vital to commit everything about her to memory.

"Hey Potter?" Lily suddenly says, after a few minutes have passed in them walking in silence.

He turns to her. "Yeah?"

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

The random question throws him. "Huh?"

Lily repeats the question.

"Oh," he says. "No. I always wanted one though. A younger brother or sister would have been great."

"I have an older sister," she informs him.

"I know."

Lily looks at him in surprise. "You do?"

"I've heard you talk about her. She sounds... interesting."

Lily snorts. "Petunia and I don't get on. We used to, but my coming here changed everything. I guess it must be hard for an older sibling to see their sister go to this magical place only for them to be left behind, and for the sibling to return time and time again with all these stories and achievements, when they're still in the same place they were left."

James can't possibly understand what it must be like for two Muggle siblings to find out that one of them is special and the other isn't, but he knows it can't be easy. "She could at least pretend to be happy for you. You didn't ask for this, after all."

"Petunia's forte isn't graciousness," she says. "And I don't wish her away; it's just that sometimes I think it would be easier if I didn't have a sibling. There would be none of that rivalry."

"But it would be lonely."

"Better than feeling like an outcast."

They reach the end of the corridor and proceed up the stairs.

"How come you asked me whether I had any brothers or sisters?" James asks.

Lily shrugs. "I realised I don't know much about you, even though we've been spending so much time together."

He's about to say that _he_ knows a lot about _her_, when he realises that actually he doesn't. What her habits are and being able to decipher the mood she is in by the tiniest facial expression doesn't really count. He doesn't know the important things like where she lives, what her favourite foods are and what she wants to be when she finishes school.

"I don't really know anything about you," he admits. But he should, shouldn't he, after all those years of pining after her?

"We've known each other for almost seven years, spent classes together and shared a Common Room and all I know is that you're far too obsessed with Quidditch, your hair, your friends and showing off. Oh, and being obnoxious."

"I'll have you know that my hair is high-maintenance and thus very important to me. And to those other points, yes, well, I happen to like being obnoxious, thank you very much."

Lily snorts.

"You're right, but you only know those things because you hated me for so long," he says.

"I didn't hate you."

He looks at her pointedly.

"Okay," she admits. "I disliked you immensely. But that isn't hate."

"How reassuring."

"Well, you've changed. You're more bearable now."

"Or maybe you've just got used to me."

She laughs and he enjoys listening to it. She's incredibly soothing.

"Evans," he begins and he's about to go on about something or another when Lily cuts in.

"Lily," she says.

"That's not my name."

"Oh really?" Lily rolls her eyes playfully. "It's mine. Maybe you should use it; surnames grow a bit tiresome after a while."

He stares at her in shock. How long has he been waiting for an invitation to call her by her first name? And now her name has been presented like a gift in his hands. _It starts off with a name, he thinks. But then what? If I start calling her by her given name, how long until it's something else? Her complete friendship? Her heart? Her everything? How long until it's too late to turn back and stop a certain destiny from happening?_

James doesn't remember when the surname calling had started (though he felt like he was the one who initiated it), but it always felt that Lily held the power with regards to their names: Lily was always free to call James by his first name if she so desired; Lily's name seemed forbidden and punishable if uttered without consent. He's said her name a million times in his head but only very rarely out loud. He looks uncertain about the prospect of calling her by her given name, and Lily notices immediately.

She nudges him gently with her elbow. "Go on," she whispers conspiratorially. "I've heard you say it before."

He finds himself uncharacteristically blushing, still embarrassed by that outburst. _Is Lily really the one goading now?_He thinks. How things change.

"You caught me at a vulnerable moment," he mumbles.

Lily's smirking _his_trademark smirk now. "Dreaming of me, were you?"

James snorts. He had been, but not in the way she thinks. Nonetheless, it's his turn to tease her. "Oh yes. You were in this magnificent bikini-,"

"Shut up, Potter," comes her reply, cutting him off but she's smiling anyway.

"Ah, I see you don't even know my first name."

"Is it Idiot?"

"Close, but not quite."

"I heard a rumour that it's James."

He smiles and she says it again, as if trying it out and he loves the way it sounds on her lips.

Their patrol is coming to an end, though he doesn't want it to. He likes getting to know her without the usual distractions, and in these corridors it's just him and her talking about everything and nothing. Her presence truly calms him in a way that nothing has been able to, and he finds irony in that: the one person implicit in what has subverted his world is the one person able to soothe him.

* * *

><p>There's a book solely dedicated to prophecies in the library, and James begins to spend his spare time reading it, hoping it would provide answers.<p>

It doesn't.

After many hours wasted in the library, he is still unable to figure out how reliable prophecies are, and he begins to grow frustrated. James is quickly narrowing his range of avenues to explore: there's absolutely no record of anyone dying and returning to their past in attempt to make amends, nothing about the Mirror of Erised portraying anything other than one's truest desire and there's certainly no advice about changing one's future from what's been 'pre-ordained' .

James is about to fling the book across the library when a shadow casts itself over his table. When he looks up, he finds Sirius standing over the table.

"Prongs," Sirius greets and James notes the slight disapproval in his voice. And is that disappointment there too?

"Hello Padfoot." James' response is laced with tiredness.

Sirius sits down opposite him. "What are you doing?"

The book is open on a page evidently about prophecies and destiny, and the two of them stare at its glaring words.

"Uh, studying?"

They both know James doesn't do Divination.

"Right," Sirius replies.

Silence.

"Prongs, you do know what today is, don't you?"

He's about to reply that of course he knows what day it is, it's Tuesday, when he suddenly _realises_.

"Oh, shit! I completely forgot!"

"Evidently," Sirius retorts.

"Padfoot, I'm so sorry – it just slipped my mind, with everything that's been going on. Where is he? Has he gone? Has he changed?"

Sirius eyes him warily, as though trying to figure out how James could forget something as important as their best friend's transformation.

"No," he answers. "He's about to leave shortly. I just came to find you to see if you still wanted to come."

"Of course I want to come! How could you say such a thing? I just forgot. I've had a lot on my mind-,"

"Really?" Sirius' tone is still doubtful. "I wasn't sure whether or not being Head Boy had taken over your life."

The idea that his new role would ever be more important to him than his friends hurts him, but he understands that it must appear that way. And he hates that.

"Of course it hasn't." James' voice is sharp; the annoyance that his friends don't understand him is unfounded, but evident in his voice. "I'm going, alright? Just give me a moment." He collects his stuff together hastily and heads out of the library ahead of Sirius, annoyed at his friend for being judgemental, annoyed with himself for forgetting about Remus and tired of having to live so many secret lives.

* * *

><p>When he first became Head Boy, James was uncertain whether he'd be able to maintain his monthly excursion, knowing he'd be breaking the rules in the highest way possible whilst holding a position of absolute trust. In the end, he promised himself that he wouldn't change just because he held a position of authority; rather he'd go with Remus and the others in order to help his friend. Their trips would no longer be an excuse for adventure, but a necessity.<p>

James had been fine with these arrangements, but now he's beginning to struggle.

He's no longer the one taking charge and racing ahead; he lingers at the back, watching cautiously as Remus runs rampant through the forest, Sirius chases after him and Peter perches on Sirius' back. They're all enjoying themselves and living for the moment; James is the one checking over and over again to make sure they're all safe from whatever danger may lie ahead.

Sirius frequently stops what he's doing to turn back and look at James, and it's a strange sight: a fearsome dog staring unafraid at a magnificent stag. But James sees Sirius in every aspect of the dog's face, can understand what he's truly thinking:

_What happened to you, Prongs? And why are you being who you are now?_

And James wants to scream at the top of his lungs, and he wants to lash out at everything in his path. He wants to run away from his problems; he wants to sit down each of his friends and explain:

_Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail, I wish you could see what I see; I'm envious that you can't. I know you think that I'm betraying you by distancing myself, but I'm not. Can't you see that this world isn't what we thought it was? It's no longer safe, and the forest is no longer our back garden- it's bigger and scarier than that. And there's a deep darkness lurking in the dark and it's waiting. Remus isn't the scariest thing in the forest anymore and we're not as invincible as we thought we were. Beyond Hogwarts' walls we're nothing, and no matter how strong we think we are, we're not; we're completely and utterly fallible. _

But all James does is look at Sirius and hopes with every fibre of his being that his friend will one day understand.

* * *

><p>"Surely your very being here changes everything? I know of my future, so doesn't that mean that certain things that happened with you will not happen that way with me, or can be avoided altogether? For example, Peter doesn't have to be my Secret Keeper, or that possibility can be eliminated entirely by not having a child – at that point in time anyway."<p>

Mirror James snorts. "Harry wasn't exactly planned, James. We were young and there was a war going on; we honestly didn't think we could bring a baby up in that environment, but it happened... and we did. We started off with the best intentions, but Harry happened anyway." He looks aggrieved about the son he didn't get to keep, but he takes a few breaths and tries to hide it. "What I'm saying is, I've also thought about what my being here means, and what that means for the prophecy. But the thing about prophecies – the ones that are real, that is – is that no matter how much you try and stop them from happening, invariably they end up being fulfilled. Lily and I found out about the prophecy after she fell pregnant, but I feel that even if we had known about it, no matter the precautions we took, she still would have fallen pregnant anyway. And likewise if Peter hadn't been our Secret Keeper, He Who Shall Not Be Named would have still found out our whereabouts through whoever was the Secret Keeper."

James frowns. "But then, doesn't that mean you – I – _we_can't change the future?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I didn't have a plan coming here; in fact, it wasn't much of a choice, more desperation, so I don't have the answers that I wish I had. But the one thing I do believe is that if I couldn't change anything, then I wouldn't have been brought back."

This confuses James even more. "So you were brought back to change things, but the prophecy remains the same?"

"Only if the prophecy comes into existence, or is foretold. He Who Shall Not Be Named came after us because he believed the prophecy, so maybe if it's never heard, it will be different? Of course, there's always the chance of someone else foretelling a similar prophecy, or another one springing up. No, I think the way to combat this is to eliminate everything that is in the prophecy altogether."

And James nods at his older self, as though he understands what he means.

* * *

><p>James' favourite day of the year is Halloween and he loves everything about it. He loves that it is a day to celebrate being a wizard, that he can don full wizarding robes, that he can consume as much food as he wants whilst celebrating in the Great Hall with his friends and listening to whatever live entertainment Dumbledore has issued.<p>

This year, it's the Gruesome Ghouls: a group of singing and dancing ghouls that change form according to the music, and James finds them more amusing than he should.

Beside him sits Remus, who is watching the ghouls in enthrallment; opposite James sits Peter, who is laughing and clapping along. Occasionally, he will catch James' eye and the two of them will mouth the well-known lyrics together; next to Peter sits Sirius, who taps his fingers along to the music but deliberately avoids James' gaze.

When Sirius does look his way, James offers a smile that Sirius promptly ignores and James lets out a sigh. He friend has been at odds with him since Remus' transformation, and every time James tries to reconcile with him, Sirius demands to know what is going on with James. But it's something he can't answer. He wouldn't even know where to begin.

Instead of dwelling on his friend, he decides to fill his plate with pudding and just as he's reaching for the treacle tart, he catches sight of Lily in his peripheral vision. She's sitting with her friends a few seats down and on the opposite side, and is piling her plate with every kind of dessert within reach. The sight of her loaded plate makes him laugh and Lily's not so far away that she doesn't hear him.

Her eyes meet his and with an innocent look, she mouths, "What?" at him.

He playfully rolls his eyes, points at the lone treacle tart on his plate and then points at the assortment on hers.

She shrugs, picks up a profiterole with her fingers and stuffs it in her mouth.

"Good?" he mouths.

Another profiterole vanishes from her plate and she nods and gives him the thumbs-up sign.  
>She points at his tart and James tries a bit. He chews, ruminates and then gives the so-so gesture with his hand.<p>

Lily gives him a pitying look, but this instantly vanishes when she digs into something else on her plate.

James spends a few moments watching her eat, loving the fact that she has a ridiculously sweet tooth and isn't afraid to indulge that.

When she looks up at him, he grins at her, brushes the side of his mouth and looks at her pointedly. He then watches as she self-consciously brings her hand to her mouth and wipes at her face. When she realises that there's nothing there, she glares at him, James' grin widens and the next thing he knows, a profiterole is flying straight at him. He catches it easily and pops it in his mouth.

"Thanks," he mouths at her and Lily shakes her head, aghast at the loss of her profiterole.

Still smiling, he turns to look back at his friends, only to find Sirius fixing him with a thunderous expression.

* * *

><p>After the feast, the Gryffindors continue the festivities in the Common Room. For one night, homework is forgotten and instead people play games, dance to music, laugh and chat and generally have a good time.<p>

James spies Lily sitting in an armchair, looking a bit green and a sight for sorry eyes. He's about to go over and console her when suddenly, he feels a stabbing pain in his chest.

He lets out a small cry and Remus, who is engaged in a card game with Peter, stops what he's doing and looks at him.

"Are you alright, Prongs?"

James places a hand on his chest. "Heartburn," he manages to wheeze out. But he knows what heartburn feels like, and this isn't it.

The pain intensifies and makes him feel nauseous and light-headed. He feels as though he's been badly cursed and he finds himself slightly staggering.

"James, maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing," Peter mumbles, unaccustomed to seeing his friend like this.

"Yeah, you don't look too good," Remus adds, concern etched upon his face.

"I think I will," he manages to say between gasps.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Peter enquires.

James shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

As he stumbles out of the Common Room, he catches a glimpse of Sirius standing on the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Sirius looks at him with curiosity, and there's barely disguised concern there too.

* * *

><p>James doesn't go to the Hospital Wing, though that had been his intention. Instead, his feet start heading in another direction on their own accord. Soon, he finds himself in an abandoned but familiar classroom.<p>

He's still in pain, but not so discomforted that he doesn't notice how eerie the classroom looks: the moonlight pours in through the windows and dances off the mirror, the dusty tables, chairs and random ornaments, casting shadows where there shouldn't be. It seems colder than usual and the silence seems starker.

Slowly and with great effort, James makes his way towards the mirror, which remains blank even when he looks straight into it.

The pain around his chest grows tighter and his breathing grows more laboured. Being here in this state seems ridiculous and yet he's certain that this is the one place he must be right now.

James places a hand against the mirror and calls his own name. For a few moments, nothing happens and he thinks that maybe his mirror self had vanished. Then suddenly the mirror grows cloudy and someone appears.

"James," his older self greets in surprise. "What are you doing here?" He seems agitated today (more so than usual) and there's an air about him that suggests he doesn't want company, but James stays anyway.

"I'm not feeling too good," he admits. "I feel sick and in pain, but it's nothing like I've felt before. It feels like something bad has happened to me." He studies his mirror self and notes the pallor of his face and the uneasiness there. "I thought it might have been something I ate and I was on my way to the Hospital Wing but found myself here instead and suddenly I thought: it's today, isn't it?"

The other James is standing ever so still and for a moment, James doesn't think he will answer. Then slowly (and rather sadly) he nods.

This news upsets James. On this day, in a few years' time (and in the other James' past), James and his family will die. It's still something he has trouble comprehending.

"Halloween is my favourite day," he murmurs. Now it will be marked in another way.

"I know," Mirror James replies a little dejectedly, and then looks at him. "Where is it you're in pain?"

James motions to his chest area. "Although it hurts all over," he admits.

Mirror James places a hand near his heart. "This was where the Killing Curse struck. I can't feel pain, but if I think about it, I can almost feel it. Maybe that is why you're in pain, because you're enduring the pain I'm thinking of."

At the back of his mind lies fragments of the memories that aren't his: a glimpse of the Dark Lord barging into his home, Lily running up the stairs with Harry, Lily shouting, James dying, her and Harry next...

_Ow_, he thinks. _Ow, ow, ow_. The James in the mirror isn't the only one reliving these memories; the pain of what it feels like to die isn't the only pain he's feeling.

James lowers his gaze. "What happened to you sounds awful."

Mirror James nods. "Which is why it can't happen again. Just thinking that Lily and Harry went through the same thing is absolute torture and I-," he stops suddenly, and James thinks it's because he's overcome with emotion. But his eyes are wide with shock and fixated on something behind James. Just as he's about to follow his gaze, a voice cuts in:

"What the fuck is this?"

James spins around wildly, only to find Sirius standing before him, half concealed with the invisibility cloak, but very much present.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Memories of a Life We've Yet to Live – Part Four**

**Pairing:** Lily/James

**Chapter:** 4

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to JK. The first title from part one is from Cinematic Orchestra's 'To Build a Home' and the title from the second is Stars' 'Heart'.

**Summary**: For James, it had all passed too quickly: one moment he was trying to win Lily's heart, the next he had it, she became his wife and had his baby. But then just as quickly as he had won her over, a monster came knocking at his door, wanting to take it all away. Screaming and unwilling to accept his fate, he wishes that he could have prevented it all.

Meanwhile, in another world, a Seventh Year James stares into the Mirror of Erised and encounters something that will change everything, and force him to make the hardest decision he will ever have to make.

**A/N: **It's been a year since I have updated this story, for which I am sorry. I have actually had this languishing in my folder for all that time, but hadn't got it to a point to which I was happy with. I've actually not been able to write fanfic for almost a year, having had no desire to write at all. Luckily I think that has passed. I also got a lovely review from powerofthename, which promoted me to get this back out and finish it. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and I admit that I have lost momentum with the story and believe it won't end up quite how I imagined. But I thought I better post this than nothing at all. Thank you for being patient and I hope you enjoy it however lacklustre this is. Also, I apologise for any errors as this has not been beta-ed.

* * *

><p><strong>Part IV – Something to Believe In<strong>

His friends' eyes are bewildered but demanding, and as Sirius throws off the rest of James' cloak, they grow emphatically more so.

James casts a look between Sirius and the mirror. His older self has suddenly vanished, leaving behind only more questions.

"How long have you been standing there?" James demands.

Sirius' expression is indecipherable. "Long enough to want an explanation."

_I don't owe you anything_, James thinks angrily, before realising that maybe he does.

His friend continues to look at him, his demeanour softening ever so slightly. "What is all this, James?"

The denial is on James' lips: it's tempting and the easiest answer, but Sirius' use of his given name throws James off course. Sirius hasn't called him James in longer than he can remember. For him to do so highlights to James how serious this all is and how important his answer is to his friend. He knows Sirius expects him to lie and he half expects to himself, but he's sick of all the lying and keeping things in the dark. Before this whole incident James had no secrets between his friends.

He looks at Sirius. He studies his mistrustful eyes and analyses the face of someone who seems to be turning into a stranger. He feels the growing chasm between them and the weight of carrying this burden pressing down on his shoulders. And then he tells Sirius everything.

* * *

><p>The room is cold, dark and uninviting, yet the two of them remain there, sat on the hard floor, in front of the blank mirror and Sirius isn't saying a thing. Or rather, he's trying to form words and is failing. James watches in apprehension and waits for Sirius to react. He expects his friend to bolt out of the door at any moment, but counts every second that he doesn't as a blessing.<p>

"Why didn't you say anything?" Sirius asks after a while.

James looks astounded. "Are you kidding? All of this is fucking mental. Half the time, I don't believe this is happening to me and I sure as hell didn't expect you to believe it either."

"Yeah, well, if I hadn't seen evidence..." Sirius casts a glance at the mirror, which remains blank. "Seeing an older you in the mirror was definitely an eye-opener."

James snorts. "I imagine."

"You know, I was convinced you were acting the way you were because your priorities had shifted; that being Head Boy was suddenly the be all or end all and an attempt to harbour Evans' attention, and that us lot came second best to her and your new life."

"I could tell and I really wanted to explain the truth, but couldn't." He looks at his friend. "You do know that you, Moony and Wormtail would never not be important to me, don't you? That even though I'm Head Boy now, I would never prioritise that over you lot."

"Ah, I see you fail to mention Evans' name there. So clearly you don't mind if we come second to her," Sirius teases.

James gives him a pointed look.

"Yeah, I know mate. I mean, I had doubts, definitely. But I know now and I'm glad, and I'm definitely glad that you haven't turned into some prissy swot."

"There's still time," James muses.

"What are you going to do about all of this?"

"I haven't got a bloody clue."

"I'm here for you; you know that, don't you? And I'll help you in any way that I can."

"Yeah, thanks, mate." James feels relieved to have someone helping him out and even more relieved to know his friend is on his side again.

"I'm still having trouble believing that you and Evans get together."

James snorts. "I know, me too."

"And that you two _have a baby._"

"It would be laughable, wouldn't it? If it didn't end so tragically, that is." He lets out a sigh and the two of them both look at the mirror at the same time.

"Why hasn't he reappeared?" Sirius asks.

"I dunno. I don't think anyone but me was supposed to see him and even so, I think seeing you startled him. It's one thing to go back and talk to your younger self, but another thing to see a friend." James pauses. "You know, he hasn't said what happened to you the day I died."

Sirius gives a shudder when he hears his friend talk so blasé about his death. "Prongs, when you talk about dying it makes me feel ill."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want it to happen to you," Sirius informs him, and his voice is so adamant that it humbles James. "I don't want you to die, nor Evans or the baby you come to have. And I don't know what happened to me that day, but I hope I tried my best to ensure your safety. That I obviously failed makes me want to try harder to make sure it doesn't happen again."

James nods because he doesn't know what to say. Part of him wants to thank his friend or hug him; part of him wants to cry because there are a lot of things the two of them should be doing, and talking about death isn't one of them.

"It's late, mate, we should start heading back. We can talk about this later," Sirius says.

James still nods. "You're right."

They both stand up and Sirius goes to pick up James' invisibility cloak, throws it around the two of them and they start heading off.

"Hey, are you going to tell Moony and Wormtail about this?"

James hesitates. "Could you tell Moony for me? He sort of knows what's going on, but not the whole picture and I'd appreciate it if you filled him in."

"Yeah sure. What about Wormtail?"

"I don't know whether to tell him," James admits. "Something happened to Wormtail that night and I'm not sure if it's because he also died or whether he betrayed-," (he says 'betrayed' quietly and with uncertainty) "us. I don't know if he could handle knowing; Merlin knows he has problems with his self-esteem as it is."

A frown that crosses Sirius' face suggests he's troubled by the thought of Peter possibly betraying James. "Maybe we can tell him but omit that part? It won't hurt if he doesn't know, right?"

James nods and agrees. "Thank you, Padfoot, for all of this."

Sirius nudges him with his elbow in understanding. "Detour to the kitchens?"

James smiles. "Absolutely, yes."

* * *

><p>The next day, James finds Sirius munching toast at breakfast. When he sees James approach, he fixes him with a warm smile, that James quickly returns.<p>

"I thaved 'ou thum toast," Sirius says between mouthfuls, motioning to the plate next to him (even though there's a rack full of toast nearby). James goes to sit next to him and grabs the plate.

"Thanks mate!" he says, instantly knowing that this day (and every day after that) will be that bit better because he has his friend back again.

The two of them settle back into their usual routine of talking about absolute nothingness and messing about. Peter and Remus join them shortly afterwards and if the two of them are shocked at seeing James and Sirius back to normal again, neither says anything. Peter grins though and Remus studies the two of them and then smiles to himself, as though he'd hypothesised that the two of them would make up soon – and had been right about it.

Lily, who had been sitting at the end of the table, finishes her breakfast and then comes over to the four of them.

"Morning gentlemen," she greets. Remus and Peter greet her back; James inhales sharply (though he is unsure whether that's just a reflex of seeing her or because this is the first time he's seen her since the revelations of yesterday); Sirius studies her intently.

She comes to sit next to James and smiles at him. "Hey," she says softly. "How are you feeling after yesterday?"

He finds her close presence (her bright eyes and warm smile) a little distracting. "What?" he asks, a little dumbfounded.

"You know – you stumbled out of the Common Room last night, looking absolutely awful? Ringing any bells?"

"Oh. Yeah. That." He processes the 'looking absolutely awful' bit and winces. "_Thanks_. Anyway, I'm fine. Got it sorted. Much better now." He nods emphatically, just in case she doesn't believe him (which strikes him as ridiculous, because why wouldn't she?)

"Good, I'm glad." She throws him another smile and then she looks over at Remus. "Remus, do you want to meet later to go over our project?"

"Sure," he answers. "After lunch?"

"That would be great, I'll see you then," she says, standing up. "And I'll see the rest of you later!"

She bounds off and James watches and he smiles like an idiot because the girl who never could stand him now does; the girl who used to avoid him at all costs doesn't have a problem coming up to him; the girl he always thought was beautiful and lovely still is, and she's still alive and bright and breathing. She's still here.

Someone clears their throat, but James can't tell whether it's Peter or Remus.

"Your jaw is hanging on the floor," Peter teases.

"One would think that your increased contact with one another would have lessened such reactions," Remus muses. "But apparently it makes you more prone to them."

James snaps out of his out of his reverie and fixes his friends with a glare.

"Oi, Padfoot!" Peter waves his hand in front of Sirius' face, who also looks distracted.

"What?" he snaps.

Peter raises an eyebrow. "In love with Lily too?" he enquires.

"No," he retorts. "Obviously I am in love with Prongs here."

"I love you the most," James informs him.

"Alright, lovebirds, time to go to class," Remus interrupts.

Peter groans, James stretches, Sirius ponders and Remus observes.

* * *

><p>"Have you had a chance to tell them yet?" James asks Sirius as the two of them hang out in the Heads' study: James perched on his desk and Sirius on Lily's.<p>

"Not yet. I will tonight." Sirius hesitates. "Are you sure you want me to tell them instead of you?"

"Yes, because I'd never be able to explain it coherently."

Sirius smiles. "And you think I will?"

"They'll look at me as though I'm crazy. At least they'll believe it coming from you." The truth is, James is a coward, afraid of the opinions of even his friends.

"You know," Sirius says, changing the subject. "Whenever I look at Evans, all I can see your fate – and hers. I mean, I always knew you had a crush on her, but I honestly thought it was just a crush (and all-consuming one, but a crush nonetheless). And I always thought Evans was a bit self-righteous and looked down on us lot. But you two have become close and I've seen that she's not a bad person and maybe the two of you getting together isn't implausible anymore, and maybe I've decided she's not so bad. And I see that every time I look at her, but I can't erase from my mind that it's your very union that ends in both of your deaths. I mean, I'm not blaming her, but-,"

"It's all you can see," James finishes. "You're not the only one."

"I've just... it's strange: I've gone from being indifferent to her, to being jealous of the fact that she seemed to be stealing you away, to feeling like I have to somehow do my hardest to protect her – and you too."

Sirius' words touch James because he honestly didn't wish this burden on his friend too and yet not only has he accepted it (and James' changing dynamic with Lily too), he's made it his personal mission to stop a certain fate from happening.

James can't erase the gratitude from his face, but he also can't help but feel apologetic. "I'm sorry I couldn't have held onto my crush on Madam Hooch instead," he says with a wry smile.

Sirius grins. "You two could have been brilliant together."

* * *

><p>The weeks pass and the months merge, October into November, November into December. The weather is growing colder and winter beckons, and James welcomes the changing season with open arms. There is something inviting about December: the anticipation of Christmas in the air, the excitement about the upcoming holidays, the donning of scarves, hats and gloves, the gruelling but exciting Quidditch matches and the rewarding butter beer that comes afterwards.<p>

James has been so busy with schoolwork and Quidditch that his ever-pressing burden seems more an afterthought than a constant niggling. It helps that in addition to Sirius, he now has Remus and Peter to share his burden with. When Sirius had eventually explained to them about James, Remus had been surprised and Peter had been worried, but neither wavered in offering their support. Although the four of them are no nearer to figuring out a solution to James' problem, having people to figure it out with and talk about it, helps him immensely.

The last day of term approaches and James decides to return home for Christmas, with Sirius in tow. The train journey back to London is a joyous one: all four Marauders making the most of their penultimate train ride back home. As the Hogwarts Express moves farther and farther away from Hogwarts, school begins to feel like a million miles away and James almost imagines that the incident with his mirror self never happened.

They arrive at King's Cross; Remus is the first to leave them when he catches sight of his parents and Peter leaves next. Sirius and James are left on the platform, laughing and joking and doing their best to pretend that their ended train journey isn't a stark reminder that in a few months' time, Hogwarts will no longer be their home and they will be thrust into the real world with all the burdens it has to offer.

James is looking out for his mother when he feels someone tapping his shoulder. He turns around to find Lily standing there. There's a warm smile on her face and she genuinely looks enthused about returning home and enjoying the Christmas holidays. Instantly, he smiles in return and notes that she's changed into jeans and a pretty white jumper he's never seen before.

"Lily," he greets. He hadn't seen her whilst on the train as they had both been with their friends, but he is glad to see her now.

"Hello, James," she says. "I was hoping to catch you before you went off."

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "You were?"

"There's no need to look so shocked," she teases. "And yes, I was. I wanted to wish you a great Christmas and that I look forward to seeing you in January." She makes as if to leave and then stops. "You know, I've really enjoyed working with you this term, James. You've really surprised me. It turns out you make a really good Head Boy and a not so bad friend."

A silly grin spreads across his face and he can't suppress it.

Lily's brow furrows and she suddenly looks nervous. "You will Owl me over Christmas, won't you?"

Trying his best to regain composure, he says, "Of course. But only if you Owl me first." He used to Owl Lily over Christmas, wishing her a Merry Christmas and asking her out all in one sentence, though she never replied. He'd like to be on the receiving end of a letter for a change.

She grins and nods. "Okay." She paves her hand on his arm and squeezes. "Merry Christmas, James."

He smiles affectionately at her. "Merry Christmas, Lily."

She gives him one last smile before walking off, but not before greeting Sirius, who had gone to stand several feet away.

Afterwards, Sirius comes to stand next to James and studies the giant grin on his friend's face. "You know," he muses. "I think that Evans is starting to get the hots for you."

And James laughs because the very thought of that sounds utterly ludicrous.

* * *

><p>"<em>Dear Lily, I am so glad to hear that you had a good Christmas, despite meeting your sister's fiancé for the first time. I did indeed have a great Christmas with my family and Sirius, even if Sirius accidentally set the tree on fire. I hope you're taking it easy over the holidays and not studying your heart out! All my best, James. Kisses, hugs and snogs."<em>

James raises his eyebrows. "I did not write that last bit!"

"No, but it was implied," Sirius muses as he hands James back the letter he had just nicked off James' desk. "I like the nonchalant tone you were going for there, particularly because it wasn't very effective."

James glares at his friend as he puts the letter in his pocket and goes to sit on his bed. "I wasn't trying to be nonchalant."

"It doesn't seem that way to me."

"Are you going to spend the rest of the holidays teasing me about these letters?"

"They make for an entertaining read."

"You shouldn't be reading them!"

"Well then you shouldn't leave them where I can get to them."

James says nothing; instead, he seals the letter and hands it to his owl to deliver. Sirius watches as the owl flies off.

"Hey, Prongs?" Sirius says, coming to perch at the end of James' bed. "Since you and Evans seem to be getting closer and she seems to like you, are you going to ask her out or something?"

"I haven't really thought about it," he answers honestly.

"Because I don't think it will be wise, you know?" Sirius carries on, his tone suddenly turning serious. "Not until we've come up with a solution to your problem."

James doesn't say anything for a while; instead, he takes off his glasses and cleans them with his jumper. He rubs the bridge of his nose and places the glasses back on; Sirius gives his friend a lopsided smile when he sees just how tired James looks.

"I've thought about all of this," James says. "I've thought about keeping my distance or merely being civil with her, but Lily, she makes that really hard – I've liked her for so long that I want to be her friend (and more than that), and there's something about her that makes me want to be around her all the time. To have to be cautious or restrain myself because in another reality, our eventual union led to our deaths is hard and just really unfair. Plus, what if there's no escaping that fate? Because if that's the case, maybe I should just spend as much time as possible with her and I don't know, romance her like there's no tomorrow or something, seeing as soon enough there might not be a tomorrow for the both of us."

Sirius winces. "Prongs, I hate it when you talk like that, as though you've already lost a battle. By all means, don't let this whole thing get in the way of you living your life, but don't let it defeat you." He stops to consider something. "Fuck it James, you know what? Go out with Lily! Do whatever with Lily! You're young – you shouldn't have to live your life on hold. You _will_ find a way to stop this all from happening; you _will not_ die at the hands of that man!"

James permits himself a small smile; if inner will is enough to physically affect someone, then surely Sirius had enough to topple Voldemort single-handedly.

Sirius still looks troubled, however. "But Prongs? Whatever you do, just be careful, yeah?"

* * *

><p>The Christmas holidays are over just as quickly as they crept up on them. As soon as both boys return to school, they realise that the atmosphere has changed: whereas at the start of the year the Seventh Years were revelling in being top of the school's hierarchy, now the finality had sunk in and people have realised they don't have much time left. Exams are just around the corner and life post-Hogwarts lingers ominously. The Gryffindor Common Room is suddenly bereft of Seventh Years, the majority of them slaving away in the library, trying to keep on top of their gruelling work schedules.<p>

James barely sees Lily outside of classes and meetings anymore; she was always a hard-worker but had now turned into a hard-working recluse. James finds himself being swept up in the tide of mass panic too. He'd been lax with his studies during the first term; Head Boy duties, Quidditch and the incident with his mirror self had preoccupied his time, but now he realises that he doesn't have much time to do the work he needs to do. At the beginning of the year, James had applied to become an Auror and though his future has been rendered uncertain, he still wants to work towards that.

On a cold January afternoon, he finds himself alone in the Heads' study, tackling his Transfiguration essay. He prefers the solitude of the study to the library; the sound of books being moved around, people's quiet chatter and the sound of many quills scratching parchment proving too much of a distraction. After an hour of solid working, the study door opens and Lily steps in, looking utterly exhausted.

James is surprised to see her; they don't have a meeting today.

"Lily," he greets, placing his quill down and watching as she goes over to her desk, sits down and lets out a tired sigh.

"Hullo James," she replies.

"Library proving too much?" he inquires.

She nods. "You have the right idea, hiding in here. Maybe I should take note."

"Maybe you shouldn't study so much."

"Believe me, I do it out of necessity rather than choice."

He smiles to himself; Lily had always been the type to study intensely, believing that she would never understand her work if she didn't. But James also sensed that Lily still held onto the belief that as a Muggle-born, she had to study twice as hard as someone like James in order to 'fit in', which was ridiculous in his mind because Lily's comprehension went far beyond the likes of his.

She gets out her books, parchment and quill and places them on her desk, but takes one look at her book, groans and shoves it out the way.

"I can't look at it anymore, James, I _can't."_

"Definitely wasn't going to make you," he muses. "Maybe you should take the afternoon off – give yourself a break."

"I could do with one," she concedes and begins rolling her neck side to side to ease the tension in her muscles, an act which James finds mesmerising. When she's done, she rests her head against her propped hand and looks at him. "It's Hogsmeade's this weekend," she says. "I can't wait to raid Zonko's and then treat myself to a Butterbeer."

James smiles; he can just imagine Lily buying the entire shop's worth of sweets and celebrating with a Butterbeer afterwards.

He thinks about what Sirius said about asking Lily out and contemplates whether he should do so. But should he exercise caution here, like his friend initially voiced? Or should he throw said caution to the wind? James is still uncertain; he still cannot let go of the notion that getting that close to Lily will somehow seal their fate. A date with Lily is surely not worth the gamble of her life. But then it would only be one date to Hogsmeade, wouldn't it? They would hardly be eloping afterwards.

But still he is hesitant to make a move, if not by his fears that by going on a date he will be setting their fates in motion, then by the fear that she will reject him yet again.

Lily begins to tap her fingers against her desk and if James didn't know better, he'd say she was nervous.

"Hey James?"

He looks at her in amusement. "Lily?"

"Maybe we could go together?"

He looks at her and gapes, his senses taking leave. "What?"

Lily starts to squirm in her seat and he watches as she blushes. "I thought we could spend time there together. It would be nice, you know?"

He still doesn't know what she is talking about. Or he does, but he is unable to believe it. "Wait, Lily, are _you_ asking _me_ out? On a _date_?"

Lily is positively crimson now, and James would enjoy it but he still can't believe that Lily is actually suggesting that the two of them spend time together _recreationally_.

"Don't push it, Potter," she grumbles.

He lets out a laugh and enjoys her defensive turn. He can tell it's hard for her, turning the tables and asking him out. In all honesty, he's surprised by her invitation, but it's hardly unwelcome.

It's not fully welcome either though.

_Is this the right thing to do?_ He wonders. If he goes to Hogsmeade with her, their relationship will take a new turn and everything will be a lot harder to control; destiny will come knocking.

But it's just a date. Just a collection of shared moments at Hogsmeade between two people who are friends and maybe on the verge of a little bit more.

And what was it that Sirius had said? _Don't live your life on hold._

Hadn't James waited a long time for Lily to want to go out with him? It will just be a date, after all. Just one simple date.

He stares at Lily, watches as she waits for him to respond, anxiety beginning to show on her face.

_No, _he concedes to himself. _It's not. _The memory of him dying and knowing Lily was next is still fresh in his mind and he had sworn that he would do anything to prevent that particular fate from happening. A wonderful time with Lily is not worth the consequences.

But _this_ Lily is here in front of him and _this_ Lily can't understand why he's reluctant to answer her.

"James?" she whispers.

He could tell her no. He could tell her that he's busy or already has plans. He could suggest another time, and then keep putting it off.

But he's spent what seems like a lifetime trying to please this girl. And he knows he would do anything for her, whatever the cost. Everyone has a weakness, and for James, it is Lily.

The Lily in the future met a terrible end, as does he. But the Lily in front of him is real and vibrant, and right now is anxiously waiting his reply. He would need all the strength in the world to say no to her, and he doesn't have that power.

"I think," he finally answers, "that that sounds like a great idea."

He smiles at her and she returns it in kind, relieved at his answer.

_Everything will be okay, _he tells himself. And he chants it so many times in his head that he begins to believe it's true.


End file.
